Going bald together
In May 2010 at the age of 49 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Anyone who has gone through this process knows it is not an easy time, but throughout it all my husband Mick stood tall beside me. Surgery, chemotherapy and radiation; he was there at every step.
I remember how before the second session of chemo my hair started to fall out in clumps. I will never forget how numb I felt that day. I was just sitting in the ensuite, gathering my hair in my lap, when in came Mick. He asked if I wanted him to shave my head, but the proud woman inside said, ‘No thanks!’
He left, but a short while later he returned; he’d taken the dog clippers to the middle of his head and fluffed up the sides to look like Crusty the Clown. We laughed so much that day, and yes, we shaved each other’s head!
By chemo number five I was bald, bloated and feeling very down.
On one of the down days I was sitting on the bed in the guest room visibly upset at how my appearance had changed. In came ‘my knight with the bald head’ and saw that I was upset.
He disappeared, came back and threw himself on the bed. I look at him and think ‘There’s something different about him!’ Well, he’s gone and shaved his eyebrows off! I was a howling mess by this stage. Mick looked quizzically at me and asked ‘What’s the matter?’ Through the tears I managed to get out, ‘Now you look like me!’ Bless him!